


Destitution and Desire

by dshep33



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11x11 meta, Cas is possessed, Dean's pining, Happy ending after angst, I posted this on tumblr, M/M, but no one saw so I put it up here too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 11:02:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5926048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dshep33/pseuds/dshep33





	Destitution and Desire

It was late. Very late, but Dean couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking about those words. _Wanna know the secret to a long and happy life? Follow your heart…_ He’d been trying to do that for years, constantly thinking of different ways to say it, but never having the courage to do so. Why was he so damned afraid? Because it was Cas? Because he was afraid he might get rejected, or that the angel might abandon him? Or their relationship might become strained? Cas wouldn’t just leave… would he?

Dean sat up in his bed, contemplating getting up and kneeling then deciding against it. Should he pray to the angel? Or just send a text? Call? Dean didn’t know. He felt like he didn’t know anything.

After what seemed like roughly three billion years of anxious indecision, Dean settled on a text. Something short and to the point, no flowery crap that might get in the way.

“Cas. Hey man, I need to talk to you about something. Meet me at the bar in town in a half hour?” His heart beat like a heard of elephants as he pressed send, but after that last hesitation, he forced himself to calm down.

 _Jesus man, get some control over yourself_.

The reply came after a minute so long, it felt like years. “Sure. Which bar? The one on the north end or the expensive one downtown?”

Dean hesitated. He’d forgotten there were two. “Let’s hit up the expensive one. The other doesn’t have those weird margarita things you like.” The reply was just a compilation of two emoji’s; a thumbs up and a smiley face.

 

Castiel’s phone vibrated on the table next to him, but he was powerless to grab it. All he could do was watch as Lucifer’s vessel’s hand plucked it off of the linoleum surface and unlocked the device.

There, plain on the screen, was a message from Dean. If his heart were indeed his, it would have beat like a thousand racehorses’ hooves, but he had no authority over his own cardiovascular system anymore.

Using his voice, Lucifer laughed. “He wants to talk to you, little brother.” Castiel’s own voice said. “Too bad you won’t be there for the meeting.” He jested as he sent his reply.

Dean’s answer came almost immediately. Castiel felt gratitude at Dean’s thoughtfulness, but worried about what the monster inside of him would do. The malevolence that poured from Lucifer’s warped grace was enough to make him vomit, if only he could.

 

Dean’s heart raced as he sat at one of the booths, waiting for the angel to arrive. He wanted to play this off casually, but _damn_ was that hard to do when he could hardly see straight. Every time the solid wooden door swung open, his eyes would flick upward in apprehension, but every single time, without fail, he would be disappointed.

A full fifteen minutes had passed and the waiters and waitresses had begun to give him strange looks when _at last_ Cas walked through the door. The cold winter air blasted his coat around him like a storm god’s cloak, but his stern gaze made him look even stronger. Even more _angelic_.

He spotted Dean and walked briskly over, not speaking until he sat down and was comfortable. Something about him seemed odd, but maybe Dean’s mind was playing tricks on him again.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas’s gruff voice seemed mildly agitated. “You wanted to talk about something?”

Dean nearly fainted, but he managed to stay conscious enough to speak – or at least attempt to. “Um… yeah. I just, uh, wanted to say…” He swallowed what felt like a ton of bricks, then continued. “How much do you know about relationships? Between humans, I mean.” _God, don’t screw this up_. He thought to himself afterward.

“I don’t comprehend what it is you’re asking me.” Lucifer answered, despite knowing _full well_ what Dean was asking him. Cas wanted to scream. “Can you elaborate? What aspect of human relations do you think I'm not informed on?”

“Well, there are different types of relationships, and different types of attraction and I don’t know how much you know, so….” Holy _hell_ were Dean’s palms sweaty.

Cas could feel Lucifer’s thought process, but was powerless to prevent it. He wanted to hold Dean and rejoice with him, but Satan had other plans.

“There are different types of relationship, just as there are different types of attraction.” Lucifer answered with Castiel’s tongue. “Platonic, romantic, sexual, hostile, the list goes on. Why did we need to talk about this?”

“Well, uh… You see I felt like we… You’ve said before that we have a “ _more profound bond_ ” than you and anyone else, right? Like you and Sam, or Kevin, or Charlie, or Bobby? Right?”

“Yes. And we do. We have… a connection.” The flames of Castiel’s longing didn’t compare to the savage glee of Lucifer’s hatred.

“Well, when two humans share a closer connection like that, it’s usually called love.” Dean could hardly breathe – he didn’t know how he was talking, or even still alive.

The look on the angel’s face didn’t help much. He seemed unimpressed; bored almost. Like he knew this day would come and he had already thought of ways to turn Dean down. “So?” The question rumbled deep in his throat, and Dean’s heart rate tripled. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that… well… Maybe we should try it out? Love, I mean. Being a… a couple. What do you say, man? Will you be my…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. _Boyfriend_. It sounded so _odd._

“Your what? Your boyfriend? Your companion? Your lover? After everything I’ve done for you and you consistently treat me like some toy, you expect me to fall into your arms so we can drive off into the sunset together?”

Cas was hurling himself against the walls of the vessel, trying to find some sort of outlet, some loophole that would let him talk to Dean for just one second, but Lucifer’s control was complete. Across the table, Cas watched as Dean’s heart shattered in front of them, and nearly broke himself as Lucifer internally giggled.

“I know, man. The way Sam and I have treated you… It isn’t right. It’s never been right. But things could change now. Things can get better.” Dean could only think of one thing; _don’t let him go_.

“Better? Like how things are better for Charlie now? The only way anything can get better is if none of it involves _you_. Or that big ape that follows you around like a lost dog.” And boom. Lucifer’s last pin fell perfectly into place.

He got up as if to leave, but paused when Dean’s voice quietly said “I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

 _The icing on the cake_. Lucifer turned around and glared down at the silently weeping human, and with a look of rampant disgust, said “Drive headlong into a brick wall with a cab full of propane. That should do the trick.”

Dean’s emotions turned from sorrow to anger, at that. “The hell’s gotten into you lately? You’ve been a complete ass ever since we got back from saving Sam, and everything you do seems out of the ordinary. What gives?” They were drawing the looks of the other bar-goers, but neither of them cared.

“Maybe I’ve realized that you’re not worth anything. Maybe I’ve finally come to my senses and can see that you’re a parasite. _Maybe I_ really just genuinely _do not like you,_ Dean. At least _now,_ he knows that he’s worth more than a human like you.”

“He?” It was a small mistake, but paramount. As Dean’s brain macro-analyzed their conversation, realization dawned on him and he closed his eyes. “Cas, what have you done?”

Lucifer grabbed Dean’s collar and dragged him close enough so that their noses almost touched.  In a deadly whisper, Lucifer said “He did the right thing. He did what you and Sam could never do – not five years ago, not now. He sacrificed himself for the greater good.”

“Get out of him, you bag of dicks.” Dean spat. “That’s _his_ body now, and _he_ should have control over it.”

Dean was right. Lucifer on the other hand, was not. It was _Cas’s_ body, but he wasn’t yet ready to give it up. If he’d known how Dean felt, he would never have agreed to letting the devil in. If he’d known that he wasn’t expendable, then Lucifer would still be locked away. He wasn’t willing to spend the rest of eternity without Dean. He’d rather face the next month or so with him, then let Dean die and live on as Satan’s personal plaything.

_Get out._

_Yeah right, pretty-boy. You don’t have any control here._

_I beg to differ. Get out of my body, and go crawl into that hole again._

_Not gonna happen._

Dean had noticed that Lucifer had gone quiet, and that gave him a small bit of hope. He sent a silent prayer to his angel, a small message of encouragement and affection that Cas received and used as fuel to feed his growing conviction.

The two angels battled back and forth inside of the incognizant body, while Dean pulled them outside on their barely working limbs. After one last enormous effort on Cas’s part, Lucifer was forced to flee – an eruption of light and glory that stood in stark contrast to the night sky. He dissipated into the air like a radioactive cloud, followed by an angry shriek, then he was gone.

Cas collapsed as he blacked out, but Dean caught him before he had a chance to fall. As his own grace filled his own body, he regained consciousness and looked up into the green pools of Dean’s eyes, black from the shadows of the night.

“Hey starshine. Feelin’ okay?” Dean asked as he smiled down at the angel tentatively. Cas nodded, then turned and vomited into the gutter.

“I’ll be fine, now that he’s gone.” His voice was deeper and filled with more gravel, but it sounded _right_. It sounded like _Cas_.

“Good. Then let’s get you home.”

Cas grabbed Dean’s arm to stop him, looking up at the Righteous Man in wonder. “Did you mean what you said in there? Do you _really_ want to…”

Dean took a deep breath, but nodded and said “Yeah. More than anything,” Then glanced away sheepishly.

The seraph on the sidewalk smiled gently at that. “Then there’s no need to rush, Dean. I’m already home.”


End file.
